


Mated it Be

by RougueShadowWolf



Series: 15 Minutes [139]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Abuse of Authority, Alternate Universe, Arranged Marriage, Child Abuse, M/M, Orphan Stiles Stilinski, Past Sexual Abuse, Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 09:14:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6747934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RougueShadowWolf/pseuds/RougueShadowWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek wasn’t gay, he wasn’t even bi. He was straight. He loved women, sure they seemed to all want to kill and destroy him, but he found them desirable. And yet for some unknown and unreasonable reason his mother was convinced his perfect mate was some kid by the name of Stiles Stilinski.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here we are with 15 minutes of hell for you all. My friend Turquoise-typewriter has latched onto some piece of crap she found in my box of ideas and asked me to attempt stringing it into something more than a few droplets of words, so judge me not harshly or I shall begin to scream like a banshee for she had no right to read through the stuff marked as throw-out. Any ways so the idea is one of those boring fic’s with an arranged or whatnot marriage between Stiles and Derek, one that is arranged by Derek’s mother who is worried about her son after his rather horrific and failed attempts at finding a proper and good mate. Heed my warning and recommendation to leave now and never look back, because there is nothing special or new in this fic for you all to read. Oh and she wanted a few changes to this fic like the Darach thing wasn’t originally in this scribble since well it wasn’t yet part of the show, and Peter hadn’t had a mate or kids in the original scribble but she wanted them here but dead, she also wished to be more than light abuse in Stiles past which has him sort of quiet and subdued.   
> I should probably also explain that in this universe werewolves are known, they came out a while back and now there are all these laws set-up to protect them, still of course if a werewolf goes feral or moon mad well then the hunters can just off the sucker without seeking the courts approval, but of course once the deed is done they will have to prove it to be a legal kill which was not what Kate did and so she was handed to the counsel of hunters once a court of law saw her guilty… like there are two courts a hunter goes through when accused of an unlawful kill the first is the one we recognize and then once the verdict falls on guilty the prisoner/hunter is taken to the hunters counsel where they can either strip you of your hunters statues and throw you back into the human court once more to be thrown into prison but most often the counsel chooses to deal with its own people by just removing the stain completely; which is what happened to Kate, and because she was an Argent it was up to the matriarch of the family to finish the job which she did with the counsel there to witness it and with Talia Hale and a few other Hales’ there as well to see the job be done right.

  
Talia Hale did not enjoy seeking guidance from outsiders, but as his son was soon to reach the age of twenty-five and with him still unmated, drastic actions had to be taken especially as a mate would help settle her son and his ever increasingly restless wolf. Talia had waited long enough for her son to get his act together and find a mate, but since the dark druid incident her son had forsaken any hope of finding a mate that wouldn’t bring destruction and death upon their family and pack.

Talia Hale would do anything to save her only son, and so sought the guidance from the oracle of the north. Her wolf was restless beneath her skin as they made the last leg of their long journey by foot up the steep mountain, the dogs of their sled howling and barking where they’d been left to wait. Unlike her emissary the oracle had a gift most valuable at a time like this and so Talia traveled far from home to see the reclusive lady who had set up a home in a long forgotten mine, a place Talia could not find without the guidance of the stars and the small map Deaton had provided her with before she’d set of to find the key that would save her son.

The night was eerily calm the ground covered in snow and the stars shined bright above her head as she climb up the mountain side, the rucksack on her back groaning as the weight of her offerings were straining the fabric and stitching, but she climbs no less fully determined to find answers to save her son from misery that would follow is her only son did not find a mate in time.

She’s breathless and shivering, fingers and toes numb from the bitter cold that had seeped through her layers of clothing, the northern wind showed her no mercy as would not the moon once Derek turned twenty-five if they were lucky he would have one good year before his mind would break, but Talia could not place too much hope on such a thing since only one known werewolf had made it to twenty-six before the madness would take over.

The opening to the man-made tunnel was barely visible half of it had collapsed but there was a small, narrow opening through which she was able to push her offerings through before crawling on after it. The tunnel is for the most part engulfed in darkness only a faint light could be seen in the far of distance. Talia could smell an old life at the end of the tunnel as well as the scent of a little fire burning, the smoke that whispered through the ice interior wasn’t thick or heavy, and the smoke was gentle and light like a child’s whisper.

With cautious steps Talia Hale, mother of three and the Alpha of the Hale pack, navigates her way deeper into the mine that seemed frozen in time, mining equipment’s left here and there as if the men that had worked there were bound to return one day and pick-up where they’d left of.  
  
The lady of the cave, the oracle of the north, the woman seer from a land a far where summer nights were bright and winters dark and long, was small and very old from the looks of things. Her skin even in the warm and welcoming light of the fire lit in a small fire-pit was pale as the winters snow outside the old mine. The woman dressed in furs from her pale head to her toes had eyes that clearly had lost their sight long ago, and yet Talia could swear this woman who most did not know existed seemed to see her just fine.

`Welcome Alpha Hale, ´ the woman says words carefully chosen, her speech is slow and clumsy as English is clearly not her native tongue, and `I’ve been expecting you.´

Talia knows not to be a fool and ask how the blind woman knew she would come, instead she accept it as the truth and nothing but the truth.

`Please, ´ the white lady in furs of wolves and many other creatures says, `sit by the fire warm your fingers and your toes.´ the old woman gestures towards a seat made of furs and what looks like pieces of stone with her wrinkly and skeletally thin hand, the old and long fingernails curved slightly like claws but this woman was no werewolf but a human born with a gift most men would never understand or show respect for.

Talia takes a seat as told to do, and yes stones were indeed the backbone of this creation she feels them shift and settle beneath her.

`Warmth for cold,´ the old woman says as she hands the alpha of a very prominent pack a cup of coffee, `drink for the thirsty, yes?´

`Yes, please.´ Talia says as she gratefully accepts the old and battered mug that looked like it had been created in an old forge, hand and hammer made, then again everything she could see in the dimply lit living-space looked old enough to deserve a place within the safety and protection of a museum.

`You brought me goods, yes? ´ the old lady ask as she throws a few broken tree branches into the fire.

`Yes.´ Talia says her hands gratefully soaking up the warmth seeping through the slightly rusty surface of the mug, `canned goods as well as sugar, salt and…´

`And drink?´ the woman asks eagerly as she pokes at the fire until little specks of light dance upwards to the stone sealing, she’s liking her lips as if she could already taste the rich malt that sat in a wooden box at the top of all the other items Talia had brought.

`Yes.´ Talia answers it seemed the whispers held true that the white lady of the mine enjoyed a good drink from time to time, and yes indeed her almost toothless smile did look pleased with Talia’s answer and yet she made no move towards the bag at Talia’s side.

`Good. Good.´ the old lady says before moving to where a small drum-like thing hanged on the wall, next to a small leather pouch both of which she took with her shaky old hands and brought closer to the fire.

`My sigh, it is no longer as sharp.´ the woman explains, `And I hear no longer as clearly as I did when fresh and young.´ there’s no regret to be found in the old woman who just smiles happily, `Time runs out for us all as does light and magic too.´

`All that begins has an end.´ the old seer says as she slowly, clumsily settles down on her knees by the fire, and Talia worries that the old bag of bones would not have it in her to rise again even with aide, but then the pale woman with strands of white framing her gaunt and wrinkly face smiles up at her while saying, `But no end yet.´

`Now, ´ the Oracle of the North says rather breathlessly as she moves her things around settling them where she wants them to be, `let us see what we are allowed to see.´

`Allowed?´ Talia has to ask, she watches as the old woman picks up what looks like an old chinbone.

`Not all mysteries are meant for the living to know my dear,´ the white lady in furs says, `some secrets are secrets for a reason.´ and with that the bone is dropped onto the leather surface of the drum, but instead of just coming to rest upon the odd markings on the stretched surface the bone starts to leap upon it, drumming out a low but none the less powerfully vibrating sound, a sound that starts to pick-up pace as the old lady starts to chant something Talia can no understand, blowing fistfuls of ash into the fire that hisses in angry protest.

The airs on Talia’s arm starts to stands just as the fire turns into an eerie blue color that almost looks like it flows rather dances up towards the dark stony ceiling above their heads, and then the drum goes quiet as does the old lady who stares unseeingly into the flames, her head tilted to the side as if listening to a small child whispering into her ear.

`Oh this is interesting, yes it is.´ the old woman mumbles while nodding her old head.

`What is? ´ Talia asks eagerly, watching almost enthralled by the motion of those old hands that start to move over as if coaxing the flames to grow a bit higher and brighter, and now Talia swears she too can hear several small voice whispering in the room then again it might just be her own imagination and the flames playing tricks on her.

`Not a woman.´ the Seer of the north who had by rumors travelled across seas alone in search of peace, `a boy. A boy is what he seeks, what he needs.´

Alright, Talia thinks as she sips a bit more of the very strong coffee, so a male, this is not going to be easy to convince Derek to agree with.

`Clever thing he is, this boy.´ the old woman says before she gasp as if she’d seen something truly unexpected, and she is suddenly grasping Talia by the arm and with wide and excited eyes she breathes out the words, `A Spark.´ and Talia drops her cup at that, and she stares into the blind eyes searching for deceit as she asks if it’s true, is his sons mate-to-be truly a spark?

`Oh yes.´ the old woman says as she moves closer to Talia now grabbing at both her arms, `He is a spark, but not just any old-little spark. Great spark, the spark that will create life.´

Talia can barely contain her excitement at the prospect of having something as rare as a spark in her pack, and a Great Spark no less.

`Who – who is he?´ Talia asks and the woman looks confused for a minute before shoves her hand into the fire and Talia isn’t quick enough to stop her, but when she pulls the old hand and arm away from the flames Talia sees a familiar name burned into the pale flesh of the otherwise unharmed arm.

`Stiles Stilinski? ´ Talia breathes out in disbelief well now the universe seemed to have a sense of humor after all.

~*~*~*~

Harris’s Home for Wayward Sons wasn’t the first-place one would think to find Derek’s mate, then again one also wouldn’t have thought that the son of the man who died trying to save your family was going to be your mate, but that was the cards Derek had been dealt with or at least they were the cards his mother had thrown at him. It didn’t matter to his mother or this oracle she’d gone to see that Derek wasn’t even gay, or bi, none of that seemed to matter since some mystical powers had decided that Stiles Stilinski had to be Derek’s burden for the rest of his miserable life.

Derek glares at the building that had bars on its windows which seemed a little bit too excessive to him since the area was hardly roughest neighborhood, the building appeared to him pretty much like the prison he’d heard it to be instead of the safe and secure place people like the Argents hailed it as, then again by the look on Victoria Argent’s stony face it seemed like the matriarch of the Argent’s perhaps hadn’t known exactly what sort of place the her family had been supporting for years; then again as long as the kids were healthy enough to join the Argents hunter clan once they reached the age of fifteen; hell the boy his mother was now convinced would be his perfect mate would’ve soon ended-up with the Argents at least for a few years and then if he passed all of their training he’d get to carry the Argent’s name and be one of their men, if he failed well then the kid was just on his own.

`Let’s get your mate sweetheart, ´ his mother says the smile she’d been wearing for the past two weeks finally faltering, and Derek followed her obediently up to the house, not only were they accompanied by Victoria Argent who was one of many people that had handled Stiles’ affairs since the death of his father, a death that would never have happened if Derek hadn’t been followed by her sister-in-law. The judge who had signed off on the emergency petition to have Stiles removed from being a ward of the state and handed over to Derek as a future mate, was accompanied by another judge who had ruled and signed that he Derek Hale could mate with an under-aged child since under the law of werewolves-protection act a mate could be claimed while still not of age if the werewolf was under the risk of moon madness, both men of law were chatting happily with one another no doubt pleased with the little incentive Peter had slipped them.

It doesn’t take all that long for someone to come and open the door, a door with many locks, and when the door does finally swing inwards they are faced with the weasel looking of a man that was Adrian Harris, no Derek had nothing against the animal version of a weasel but the human variation just wasn’t to his liking; then again Derek dislike of the pale man with sharp and mean eyes might also be based on the fact that this individual had been a person of interest during the investigation into the arson that had claimed the lives of not only Derek’s father and cousins but Peter’s still pregnant wife too, but the man was never charged with anything and had been allowed to continue care for boys who had nowhere else to go.

Adrian Harris looked almost displeased at the sight of his unexpected visitors, glaring at them as if was some high and mighty king that deemed himself superior to the rest of them.

`Mr. Harris,´ the judge with the horrible wig that looked no more natural on his head than the orange tint to his skin was says voice all-mighty and booming as he offers his hand, there was just something about the short man that made Derek think he could be a future dictator of some country full of fools.

Harris looks at the manicured hand like it was something displeasing, yet he takes the hand and shakes it accordingly while saying with a guardedness that might be contributed to the fact that he was also facing three Hales, it was no secret that Derek’s mother had strived to get each individual even remotely involved in the fire that killed her parents, her husband, her sister-in-law’s and brother and all the little nieces and nephews she’d loved, and Harris had been one of those people she had been hounding for years in her chase for justice.

`Yes? How can I help you? ´

`I am the honorable judge Archibald Saunders,´ little man dictator says voice still a bit too loud and booming, hand still shaking Harris to the point that Derek was almost certain that the skinny limb would become disconnected from the rest of Harris’ body at any given moment.

`And this here is judge Walter West, and we are here to,´ the judge with the orange tint to his skin and tiny slits for eyes said while dropping Harris’ hand without warning, ` see over the re-location of one of your young charges.´

Harris’ face stays impassive but he did however step aside to let them enter the building that was oddly quiet for a place housing about seven boys all of them under the age of fifteen, the youngest five years old.   
  
`Theirs is, of course, a settlement? ´ the high school teacher asks while he locks the door behind them, the house reeked of young boys and cleaning fluids, and the place was indeed from what he could see spotless then again some did say Samantha Harris’ wife of Adrian Harris’ had a slight problem with her obsessive need for cleanliness and sure enough there she was suddenly asking them to remove their shoes and put on the slippers she’d brought them.   
The woman was tall and thin, her skin was pale as if she did her best to avoid the sun and her hair was cut short barely a pixie-cut, the pale brown hair already turning grey even though she was just in her early thirties. She seemed very high-strung to Derek who watched her move amongst them handing out slippers left and right.

`Of course.´ Derek hears his mother answer drawing Harris’ eyes to her, and it was clear he still very much resented her for dragging his name through the shit Kate Argent had created, `a sum of twenty-thousand is the going price is it not?´

`It is.´ grunted the judge who had pretty much been silent thus far says while struggling to get his fine and shiny shoes off of his feet-

`Well it depends of course on the boy,´ Harris says, and oh yes the greed was gleaming in his eyes now, it was no secret that the Hales’ had a fine fortune more so since the Argent’s had to part with half of theirs in a form of compensation to the Hale family who lost a lot of loved ones as well as their family home, it was also well known that the younger the child the lower the price as an older child was a loss to the Argents and then there were the time the child had spent in the Harris’ care to consider, the high school teacher could easily demand a higher sum from anything between twenty-thousand to fifty-thousand dollars; Derek knew some healthy and strong kids were known to have reached higher sums but those kids had high pedigree, Stiles Stilinski was just the son of two nobodies so twenty-thousand was a generous sum especially when no one but the three Hale’s knew about the whole spark aspect of the boy.

Victoria Argent of the Argent’s Children’s Protective Foundation clears her throat unhappily, she was obviously displeased with the fact that one of the children under her so-called protection was going to be handed over to what would’ve been considered her enemy a decade ago, and well most hunters still hadn’t fully accepted the fact that there were now laws protecting werewolves from prosecution and discrimination.

`I believe Stiles is the name the boy prefers to be called, Stiles Stilinski, ´ replied the woman with bright-red hair that was no more natural that the silence of the Harris’ home for boys, the only sound Derek could hear were the nervous heartbeats in another room as well as the sound of utensils clinking and clanking against plates, none of the kids were even whispering amongst themselves they just sat there in some far of distant room eating.

Any greedy little dreams Adrian Harris may have held flew out the window at that, disappointment crashed over him before even that was replaced with something that seemed to edge along the lines of dread and fear struck both Harris’ who exchanged uneasy glances.

`He is here, isn’t he Mr. Harris? ´ Peter ever watching, ever bright asks startling both husband and wife.

`Of course – of course he is. Where else would he be?´ Harris’ responds rather defensively there was no lie there, but by the lack of color on both Harris’ faces and the displeasing stench of both their fired-up nerves made something uneasy latch onto Derek-

`Well one has heard whispers that some of your boys have gone – how shall I put it – missing.´ Peter responds smoothly enough not alert anyone to the fact that he was fishing for anything with which he could use to bring this slippery weasel down.

`Now, I’m not sure what any of those rumors has to do with Stilinski.´ Harris as good as hisses while his fidgety wife just huffs in annoyance.

`Shall we just tend to the matter at hand gentlemen?´ the huntress who had been set with the burden of having Kate Argent as a sister-in-law said, `I have other things to do today, and none of them is listening to accusations based on nothing more than vicious whispers.´

Both Peter and Adrian Harris’ shoot a couple of glares at each other before allowing the moment to pass.

`Are you certain that you want this boy?´ Harris asks and Victoria Argent glances over at Derek who wants to shake his head and say no, but he doesn’t instead waits for the huntress to seek the answer from his mother who just nods.

`Yes. We do. A seer gave is his name as a perfect match for my son.´ Derek can’t help but roll his eyes at that, although the excuse had satisfied many it did not convince Derek the slightest that this wouldn’t just be another disaster like Paige, Kate and the woman who had gone by the name of Jennifer Blake.

`Well then, let’s go into my study so I can make sure everything is in order with the paperwork.´ Harris says before showing them into a small room that was ruled by a great old desk and very little else, there were only three chairs in the room one of which was a great chair designed for comfort and located behind the grand desk and two were simple wooden chairs placed before the desk; Harris took his seat behind his desk as soon as Argent who took one of the wooden chairs the other chair was occupied by Derek’s mother who like her brother watched the scrawny looking man like hawks; Peter had his phone out ready to make any calls that needed to be made if Harris started causing trouble.

It was clear to Derek and surely his uncle and mother too that the miserable, mean, little man was only pretending to read the legal documents before signing his name on each of the necessary lines, his wife following his example as soon as he handed her his pen that had not been bought from just any little store, the pen was ridiculously expensive looking for such a place. It was the most tedious twenty-minutes of Derek’s life waiting for the papers to be signed, and he honestly was starting to wonder if he just shouldn’t call the whole thing off and take a chance with moon madness since it would be a befitting punishment after all the destruction he’d caused his family and pack.

`Well, now that everything is in order.´ the judge says cheerfully as one stalk of signed papers are handed over to Peter, and another to Victoria and a couple to both judges while one would stay with the Harris’, `Shall we go find the young man in question?´

Harris looks rather pale for a minute and his heartrate spikes, but being the sneaky shit he was the snake of a man recovered quickly enough, but the change didn’t go amiss to Derek or Peter by the look of things, Peter looked like he’d found his prey.

`I think my dear wife should fetch him, and help him gather his things, yes? ´ Harris says and his wife is immediately making her way around the desk and out of the room, `I should of course ask, ´ and with that the man who Derek and his family were pretty certain had been involved in the fire that killed Derek’s father as well as Stiles’ father, `Do you intend to allow him to continue with his education or…´

`Of course we will.´ Derek hears his mother reply sharply, the answer seems to surprise the stick of a man.

`Oh, well that is fine of course, ´ Harris says while opening one of the draws of his desk, `I was just thinking that perhaps…´

`That what?´ Peter inquires voice revealing how irritated he was by the suggestion they would do such a thing as trap Stiles within four-walls of their home, `That perhaps we’d have him chained to a bed for the rest of his life? Those are malicious rumors spread by nasty little bigots. I’ll have you know that my wife was free to do as she pleased. Of course there are a few distorted individuals, but so are there amongst your lot too.´

`Peter.´ Derek hears his mother growl softly in warning. The subject of werewolves being harmful partners to humans was a topic one should never even hint at while Peter was around, such a thing always brought back the unhappy memories of his mates parents who had suggested that all Peter would lock her up in a house for the rest of her life with no rights or freedom to do as she pleased; none of Peter or any sane werewolf would ever do, an unhappy mate was as good as stabbing yourself in the heart once the bond was formed.

`I can assure you Mr. Harris, Stiles will be fine and well taken care of.´ Victoria Argent says as she places her own stack of papers in her designer bag, one of the sort of bags Peter’s mate would’ve scuffed.

`That is of course good to know.´ the man behind the desk says wearing a false little smile, Derek however didn’t miss the falseness of that statement, `I should of course warn you that Stilinski, Stiles, is a bit of a problem child.´

`Oh, really? ´ Derek hears his mother ask while he himself huffs out a low, `Of course he is. Why wouldn’t he be? ´ and why wouldn’t Stiles Stilinski be troublesome, with Derek’s past-partners one really couldn’t expect the kid to be anything else.

Harris nods while taking out a stack of papers, `Yes, the boy can’t seem to keep out of trouble. My wife and I have been struggling with him a great deal.´ Derek can’t help but glance over at his mother begging her to just call this whole thing off, especially when Harris continues to tell them how the boy is a compulsive liar that no truth could fall from his lips even if the truth would save his own skin. And apparently the boy was a thief too and not too smart either, the boy was homeschooled and from the grades he’d been given it would be a miracle if the kid ever managed to get his ass to high school.

`Is he really such a difficult child? ´ Peter asks, and Harris just nods his head before a long drawn-out sigh leaves his thin lips and the educator of youths continues to say, `We thought at first it was due to the traumatic experience of losing a father the way he had, and of course the tragic passing of his mother a year prior, but even with counseling nothing changed – I suppose some children are just born evil.´   
  
`Evil? Surely not.´ the more quiet judge chirps in, and Harris retracts his statement instead says, `Well perhaps not evil, but wicked. I was fairly certain that he’d end-up behind bars one day, locked away.´

Now Derek was starting to get really nervous about bringing yet another tragedy into his family and pack, and he almost tells his mother to call this disaster off when the door opens and Harris stands-up from behind his desk, and everyone turns to see Mrs. Harris enter the small room with a kid that had to be around the same age as Cora by the looks of things, the boy was fairly small for someone only a few months away from turning fifteen. There were a few gasps within the small room, which had Harris clearing his throat nervously, but then again no one had surely expected the boy to be as thin as he looked even while wearing clothes that were visibly not fitting correctly over the slightly hunched form, the boy was in Derek’s opinion a twig dressed in hand-me-downs. The kid was a miserable sight and clearly terrified, the kid reeked of fear and tears shed not too long ago, and both Derek and his wolf felt sorry for the kid.

`Stiles, ´ Harris says with a false air of cheerfulness while moving from behind to stand next to Derek and going as far as to place a hand on Derek’s shoulder, `may I introduce to you Mr. Derek Hale, ´ and with that the miserable excuse of a woman that had married an equally miserable excuse of a man positively shoves the skinny boy in Derek’s direction, `you are now his property as I am sure Samantha has told you. Do you understand? ´

The kid, Stiles, Derek soon to be mate is trembling a little as he nods and says with a timid and rough voice, `Yes, sir. I understand, sir.´

`Good.´ Harris says reaching out to squeeze the back of the long thin column that was the kids neck before continuing to say, `And you’d better behave and not shame me and Samantha after all we’ve done for you.´

The boy doesn’t say a word just nods eyes still on the ground.

`Well, say hello to Mr. Hale, ´ Mr. Harris as good as hisses at the kid who flinches almost theatrically but recovers quickly enough, yet he does not even take a peek up at Derek instead just stands there saying a quick hello to Derek who is starting to wonder whether or not the kid is really terrified of him or the man standing next to him.

`Shouldn’t you thank Mr. Hale for being so kind as to take you? ´ Mrs. Harris hisses from where she was standing arms crossed, and the boy immediately nods several times, and the kid does thank him even though he doesn’t sound all that thankful but then again the boy had no idea who Derek was or what would happen to him, and for now Derek would let this strange behavior pass as he doubts the kid will act any differently as long as both Harris’ are watching him.

`Where are your things? ´ Derek asks and the boy positively jumps even though Derek had made considerable effort not to sound to gruff.

`He doesn’t have all that much.´ Mrs. Harris says while holding-up a small Batman backpack that looked like it was several years old, the sort of a bag small kids had.

`Is – is that all? ´ Peter asks as he stares at the bag like it surely had to be a joke of sort.

`No. His shoes and jacket are by the door.´ Mrs. Harris responds looking a bit like she wasn’t getting the reason for the startled looks on the faces of the people in the room.

`Nothing else? ´ Derek asks, and the woman looks a bit confused glancing over at her husband who confirms it to be true.

`Fine. Get your bag.´ Derek says as he really just wants to leave this miserable place already, the boy looks over at Harris and doesn’t move until the stone-faced man gives him a nod, the boy moves slowly and his movements are awkward and ungraceful.

The jacket the boy pulls on is old, and too sizes too small and so are the shoes, and Derek can’t help but throw a look at Victoria Argent asking her what the hell sort of establishment was her family supporting, and by the looks of things she was questioning it too. The Harris’ wishes Derek good luck and reminds him as well as his mother and uncle to not trust a damn word the buy says, and to Stiles they just say, `Behave.´

`That place needs to be investigated.´ Peter announces as soon as they are inside the car, Stiles sits in the back with Derek, hugging his Batman backpack tightly and trying to look as small as possible where he sits pressed against the car door.

`Agreed.´ his mother says while glancing over at Stiles.

`How are you feeling honey? ´ She asks in that same maternal sort of way she does whenever someone in their pack or family weren’t feeling well or Derek is being extra quiet.

`Fine. Thank you for asking.´ the boy replies like he’s been trained to do so, each of the Hale’s share a look that holds a message of, “He’s not fine.”

The drive isn’t a quiet one, Derek’s mother clearly feels a need to tell Stiles as much about their family and the life he will be living as possible during the drive, Peter jumping in here and there with a question most of which Stiles can answer with a simple yes or no but some the boy just looks lost and terrified as if the answer whether or not he prefers pie or cake could get him in trouble, and Derek well he keeps growing more and more anxious as the wolf in him is starting stir beneath his skin; it is eager to get the boy to smell like them, and not all these strangers that seemed to have soaked themselves into the smaller body, the wolf also wants to make the boy smell less like fear and dread, it craves to make the boy happy to see its mate smile with joy in his pretty brown eyes. 


	2. Fear the Life I Do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here we are with Troublesome-Tundra hitching a ride on this fic, damn it are my friends lazy or what today? But any ways and how’s, she wanted this chapter to be in the point of view of Stiles, she just wants to know what it was for Stiles before and hopefully after he was freed from the Harris’ house since he was behaving to strange.

The frustration and despair he’s been feeling and trying to keep buried deep within leaves him in a frustrated cry, his legs had started to shake and ache minutes ago as had his tired arms. He was standing where he’d been left, legs spread wide and trying to stay balanced on a couple of broken legged stools, his arms weren’t spread wide like his legs but they were bound with thick rough rope that was tightly wrapped around his wrists and looped through a set of old pulleys that squeaked and clanked loudly whenever the rope moved even the slightest bit, and at the other end of the cruel rope that was as familiar to him as breathing was a set of weights that threatened to pull his thin body right on off of the stools he stood upon; the only thing that kept Stiles from ending up dangling from the ceiling like a human piñata was him, as long as he held onto the rope and fought against the weights he would be fine.

Stiles knew of course that the situation he found himself in was entirely his own fault since he’d been greedy and stupid, sir had been kind and allowed him to have breakfast with the other boys but the porridge had just made his hunger more prominent and so while Stiles was washing the dishes he’d scraped the small remnants of porridge from every bowl, he’d behaved no better than a greedy pig and so he had to be punished; of course as always sir had given him a choice on the form of punishment Stiles thought would fit his crime, and this had been Stiles choice although he had not known when choosing between being strung to being caned that sir would put extra weights to the mix.

Stiles whines loudly as his entire body starts to shake under the strain of his condition, he can feel sweat dripping down his forehead and neck all the way down his chest and back, he feels like he’s going to be sick which of course would not do him any good since if he made a mess he would be punished for a second-time that day, he feels cold and dizzy with dark spots dancing around his blurry vision. His hands feel numb and he fears that he’s about to reach the point where he will no longer be able to keep a hold of the rope which will cause him to let the rope slip from his hands and then it was goodbye to the stools upon which he stood and hello human piñata; and if Stiles ended-up dangling from the ceiling he would get the cane, sir had said so. Sir had also said that after the cane Stiles would spend the rest of the day in the wall and perhaps the night if he didn’t behave while in the wall, and Stiles didn’t want to end-up in the wall again there were spiders and it was such a tight squeeze that he would panic regardless of how hard he would try not to, but Stiles knew his mind and he knew it would break once he was forced in that narrow space and they would have to force him in there since Stiles would instinctively fight against being placed within the wall; Stiles knows he is his own worst enemy, he knows he is to blame for every punishment he forces sir to hand him in an attempt to correct Stiles and his wicked ways.

Stiles closes his eyes in an attempt to block out the sight before him, sir had of course had him facing the wall in hopes of inspiring Stiles to behave to not disappoint him again, after all sir didn’t enjoy punishing Stiles as sir said it, `I find no joy in having to constantly correct your behavior Stilinski, it pains me and frustrates me to see how little you’ve learned and grown, even after all I’ve done for you.´

He attempts to breathe away the fear and pain that is starting to take over, he knows from experience that the moment that dread sinks into his body panic would soon follow, and when panic laced its cold tendrils over him Stiles would snap like a dry twig and all would be lost. Stiles wills his mind to think of different things like his bed, he thinks about the warm shower he will be allowed to take tomorrow since it was his day to shower and Stiles hopes that he may one day reach the same point of good that would allow him to take a shower every day like the other boys, the very good boys the ones that make sir proud get to take a shower how many times they want but Stiles doubts he will ever be able to become one of them after all even after all these years he was still not good enough to even have a shower every day or to have three meals a day.

Thinking about his failure at being good makes his heart ache after all he knows he’s not making either one of his parents proud by being such a bad and useless boy, Stiles feels guilty for bringing such shame to his parents and for forgetting the details of their faces even in his dreams they are now nothing more than faceless shapes playing out memories from a life before he became an orphan.

Stiles may not recall the details of his parents faces or even the sound of their voices, but he does however remember the night he lost the last of his parents like it was only yesterday, he remembers the homework he’d been working on at the desk of his father and the way the chair would creak beneath him and how uncomfortable the phonebooks were beneath his butt as he struggled to sit comfortably at the desk while working on his math homework which so very boring to him but not as boring as the other homework he’d already finished, the Sheriff had laughed that Stiles was going to be a doctor due to his horrible handwriting while his dad had said he’d be happy if Stiles became a doctor as long as he didn’t become a taxman. Stiles couldn’t recall his father’s voice but he does remember the way his dad had leaned down to kiss the top of his head in a hurry after a phone call came in, he’d told him to keep working on his homework and that once he got back from the callout they’d go home but not before picking-up dinner which could be anything Stiles wanted if he got his homework done before his dad came back. Stiles remember how he worked on his homework like the good boy he struggled to be, happily drinking from the juice box his dad had left for him, he remembers the newbie a woman with pretty eyes and dark skin like Vernon Boyd in his class sit at the front desk Stiles knew she didn’t like him but his dad said it was only because she was so young and not used to kids.

He recalls while his arms ache and his hands start to hurt to the point that he’s about to cry how after he’d finished his homework he decided to go into Sheriff’s office to read a book and lay on the comfy old couch, the Sheriff always let him sleep on it when his dad had to work late and Stiles couldn’t stay with the McCall’s for whatever reason. Stiles didn’t get far with his book before his eyes began to drop, he fell asleep feeling safe and comfortable on the old couch wrapped up in a blanket the Mrs. Sheriff had knitted; Stiles remembers it had been an ugly and uneven creation but it had been comfortable and safe sort of thing for a little kid in a very big world.

Stiles whimpers as the rope slips a bit from between his aching and stiff fingers, the burn nearly causes him to let go, just like he’d done with the book Stiles never got to finish reading Stiles had woken-up to the sound of screaming and crying, his book had bene on the floor next to the couch the words on the open pages facing the ceiling. Stiles had been curious by nature way back then and hadn’t thought at all that perhaps he should stay in the Sheriff’s office instead of sneaking out into the bullpen to see what was making such horrific sounds, he found a lot of his dad’s coworkers there most of them looked pale and reeked of smoke; there was also Mrs. Hale and Stiles recognized her because she’d been to his moms funeral, she’d hugged him tightly and told him to be brave and strong, she looks angry and it’s now that he sees that she’s a werewolf since her eyes glow Alpha red as she yells at the Sheriff, behind her stands her eldest daughter Laura who would pick-up Cora who was in Stiles class now and again from school, there’s also a boy who is completely shifted into his werewolf form and Laura is hugging him tightly as he cries and screams in sorrow and pain.

Stiles still recalls the way he’d felt like he just needed his dad, that he just needed to be held by his dad as he witnessed the grief and sorrow that came from all three Hale’s, and so he’d looked around the room for his dad and when he could not see him he’d made his way over to a shaky looking Sheriff.

`Sheriff, sir, where’s my daddy? I want my daddy?´ Stiles still felt the lump of something he now knew as dread in his little throat way back when Stiles still had thought he had one parent left in the world. Stiles doesn’t remember the shape of his father’s brow or the way he would smile, but Stiles still remembered the way the strained looking man who’d been preparing his dad for the future role of the towns Sheriff go pale and how his expression changed to something so confusing and frightening that Stiles had started to cry for his dad, that expression was burned into his brain just as the gasps of various shapes and forms had left the people that Stiles knew.

Stiles feels the first of many tears start to fall as he relives the moment he had been told his father had died a hero, what good was a dead hero Stiles thinks now not for the first-time as his fingers finally give in and the rope snaps into action and his body jerks off of the stools upon which he had been standing. He cries out in shock and pain, he kicks instinctively a few times in attempt to fight a battle he can’t win, and the fight leaves him with one last frustrated cry Stiles goes still and just dangles there rope digging deeper into the already damaged skin of his wrists.

He doesn’t want to cry, but the tears of frustration start to fall even though he tells himself they are just a waste of energy. Nothing is going to change for him no matter how hard he cries, but still cries and he does so until he’s too exhausted to cry.

Stiles isn’t sure how long he’s been dangling there, a minute perhaps or several minutes, it doesn’t really matter since by the time the door opens he’s pretty sure he’s going to have trouble when it comes to moving his arms. His head aches and he doesn’t even try and peer of his shoulder to see if it’s sir or Mrs. Harris or one of the older boys, he just hangs there as limp as possible showing his submission and acceptance. He doesn’t expect the drop, he’s never been dropped down like a sack of potatoes before not without having to thank sir for his punishment and especially not before he’s been well-educated on the sharp pain the cane makes when it connects with his flesh. The air is knocked out of Stiles, and his head spins as he falls ungracefully hitting his head painfully against the stained wooden floor.

The ropes are untied before he’s pulled up onto his knees roughly before a wet towel is shoved against his face, the cold water dripping down his neck as his face is scrubbed clean, and then his neck and shoulders. Mrs. Harris looks stressed, angry, as she cleans off some of the sweat off of his body.

She throws the towel into the corner of the room as she stands leaving a still dazed and confused Stiles still kneeling on the floor, chest heaving as he struggles to breathe through the pain that radiates through his skull and the rest of his cold body.

`Get dressed.´ Mrs. Harris snaps as his clothes smack in him in the chest, `Quickly. You’ve been bought.´

The words startle him, and he looks up at her angry face.

`That’s right. A werewolf bought you.´ she says like it’s she who has been sold to an animal, to a beast, a monster.

`P-pl-please, ´ Stiles starts even though he knows it’s too late, if he’s been bought and the papers have been signed by a judge then there is nothing Stiles can do and nothing sir can do either, but still he begs and for a minute he thinks he sees some fraction of pity in the eyes of the woman who had raised him for the past how many years.

`There’s nothing we can do.´ she says it’s the only form of an apology this woman has ever been capable of giving to him, it were the same words she’d said to him when Mr. Argent came to visit him, it were the same words she used when she placed the blame on him while protecting her favorite boys from sir and the cane.

Stiles can’t help but cry a little as he dresses himself. He knows about werewolves and what they do to humans that they have bought, Mr. Argent had shown him on his iPad plenty clips where people the old man called werewolf-whores were violated by these beasts, he’d even seen a boy not much older than Stiles get pretty badly torn when the beast had carelessly knotted the boy and pulled out before the knot had deflated, the sight had pretty much traumatized Stiles but also made him eternally grateful that none of the dicks fucking him could do such a horrible thing.

He’s not even aware of being dressed until Mrs. Harris barks at him to move, to follow her. Stiles does follow the thin woman that rarely smiled, be it slowly while crying quietly, he wants to beg her to let him leave to run away but he knows there’s no point in running the monster that had bought him would just chase him down, still wasn’t smart but he wasn’t stupid enough to think pissing-off a monster would be a great idea and so he followed Mrs. Harris down stairs and into sir’s office one of the few rooms Stiles wasn’t allowed to clean.

Stiles feels sick, terrified and sick as he slips into the room, every part of him wants to just drop down to his knees before sir and beg him not to send him away with this best that is introduced to him as Derek Hale, a name he remembers from his younger years. A part of him attempts to bring in the belief that a Hale couldn’t be the same sort of monsters Stiles had seen violating young women and boys while entertaining Mr. Argent, but the old man had told him that the beast behaved like proper men and women in public but behind closed doors the animal side took over. Stiles far too terrified to work without direction and so he speaks when he’s told too, a thing so new and an ability he’s achieved far too late to please sir, he walks obediently out of the building where he’d spent most days cleaning and cooking for sir and the boys; his knees buckled when he is directed into one of the finer cars, he sits as far from the werewolf who now gets to do with him as it pleases him.

Until death did them part Stiles would be stuck with Derek Hale.

Stiles dreads what his life would be from now on. And the further away from town the drive the more ill at ease, he’s freezing even though the car is warm enough to cause the wolves to remove their jackets, but fear ran wild and cold within him; it doesn’t even matter that Derek, his mate or rather master, throws his leather jacket over Stiles who is hugging his batman backpack tightly Stiles continues to shiver with a chill nothing can chase from his body.

There’s a light blanket of snow covering the world outside of the town that Stiles hadn’t seen in years, well maybe no longer a town but more of a city as more buildings had rose up and high, there were a lots more of cars and people than what he could remember there ever being it just serves to drill the idea into him that there had to be more than a handful of years that had passed since the death of his father.

and more so when they drive-up to the New Hale House that stood dark and demanding amongst the trees of the forest where Stiles could easily get lost if he made a run for it.

`Home sweet home.´ the Alpha says as the car comes to a stop next to several other cars that all looked as new and grand as the one Stiles exits on shaky legs, Derek catches him by the arm just in time to stop Stiles from tripping over his feet and leave a highly unattractive imprint of his face on the sleek black hood of the black Camaro.

`Careful.´ the wolf growls at him before as good as hauling him after the Alpha who is talking about something about a loft in town but Stiles can barely hear it through the frantic beating of his very human heart.

`Everything alright?´ the man who’d introduced himself as Peter Hale asks him as he struggles to bring himself up the few steps that would take him up onto the wrap around porch, `calm yourself,´ the older werewolf advices him, `We are all friends and family here, isn’t that right nephew.´

Stiles finds no comfort in those words after all Mr. Argents said werewolves shared their human bitches, that a human was no more than a toy to these beast. Just the idea of being passed around like some thing that had no heart or soul, no thoughts or feelings made the world lose focus, time crawled and yet moved too quickly and suddenly there just wasn’t enough air for him to breathe.

`What’s wrong? ´ The Alpha asks as the door opened and several unfamiliar faces smiling eagerly appeared.

`The heck do I know? ´ the voice to his right says as the hand that had been wrapped around his arm lets go.

`Stiles?´ the other male voice says, and for some reason the touch of concern Stiles hears in that voice is hilarious to him but he can’t do much of a laugh as he’s being suffocated by the air that seems trapped in his throat, `Stiles, you need to breathe. Shit I think he’s having some sort of a fit.´ is the last thing Stiles hears before he just shuts down. 

**Author's Note:**

> Oh so in my head and my notes I have Stiles age at 15 and the only reason he wasn’t thrown into the training thing was due to Mr. G. Argent who wasn’t keen on his favorite boy getting trained into a hunter, his plan was that once Stiles reached 17 to take him into his own “care”. And Derek is a few days shy from turning 25. I hope that makes some sense of things? Oh and Stiles was about six and going on seven when his dad died while Derek was sixteen blame my terrible math and bad scribbling if none of this makes sense, oh and Stiles mom had died about 9 months before Kate set fire to the Hale house and killed Stiles dad in the process.
> 
> And yes there are homes sponsored if you will by hunter clans, each child who is placed in one of these homes (sadly the Harris home was a dump not all are) are set to go through their own sponsor’s training to see if they have what it takes to become a hunter, and most kids who don’t make it are of course kicked out but most have had a good enough education to make it in the world alone but then of course there are places like the Harris home that haven’t kept up with that end of the deal. Am I forgetting something? Well if you have questions ask me and I shall try and answer. 
> 
> Oh and I would like to think with some time that both Stiles and Derek could and would fall for each other, like I think Derek is just going to be a stubborn prickly little dick for a little while just because he refuses to believe some old-bag of bones could somehow know by magic who is his perfect match.


End file.
